


Hell of a Time

by mangochi



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Panty Kink, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangochi/pseuds/mangochi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard waits until Jim's not home to indulge himself, but someone turns up unexpectedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell of a Time

**Author's Note:**

> The fic I never thought I'd write, but here we are. Well done, anon.

Leonard glances at the chrono, absently calculating the hours. Jim shouldn’t be back in their room for another two hours, if the xenobiology final takes as long as it’s supposed to, which leaves him just enough time to…..

He shakes his head hard and tries to concentrate on the open textbook on his desk. He told himself he’d quit all that when he enlisted and threw out his old stash, but one thing he kept, tucked away in an old shoebox int he corner of his closet where Jim would never see.

His fingers itch and he curls them into fists, digs his fingernails into his palms and focuses on the sharp burst of pain. Don’t think about it, he advises himself, which only serves to ensure that it’s the only thing he can think about for the next ten minutes.

"Damn it," he mutters, when he feels a drop of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He pushes away from his desk and goes to the closet, refusing to overthink what he’s doing.

Just a few minutes. He’ll put them right back.

The shoebox is exactly where he left them, and he opens the lid slowly, dumps out the three pairs of socks he stuffed in as a disguise. A scrap of purple silk glimmers at the bottom of the box, and he pulls the underwear out between two fingers, considering the garment with a slight frown.

The thing is, he never meant to get mixed up in this damn business, but it’s hard to kick an old habit and this has been a habit for a long time, longer than he wants to admit to himself.

Another guilty glance at the chrono. One four, forty-five minutes. Plenty of time.

He pulls his shirt off first, if only to delay the inevitable, dropping it carelessly on the ground. He’s already half hard with anticipation, and the feeling of his jeans and briefs sliding down over his skin sends a shiver jittering down his limbs.

The purple silk is cool and impossibly sleek, like water through his fingers, and he feels himself flushing as he adjusts the underwear, trying not to think about what he looks like at the moment.

He’s so immersed in keeping his overactive imagination under control that he doesn’t hear the door open, doesn’t realize anyone’s in the room at all until he hears the strangled sound from behind him.

Panic is like an icy bucket of water, and he swears he loses ten years off his life the second he turns and sees Jim’s wide eyes locked onto him.

Specifically, his majestically purple-clad ass, but he tries not to dwell on that just that.

"Shut the damn door," Leonard snaps before he can think of anything else, and Jim obeys instantly, his face still locked in an expression of numb shock.

"Oh. My God," he says at last. " _Bones._ ”

"It’s not what you think," Leonard says automatically, then mentally kicks himself.

Jim’s shaking his head now, mouthing silently in disbelief. “Just- I- why didn’t you _say_?”

"A lot of reasons," Leonard snaps. "But here’s one, because it makes me look like an idiot!" He bends and grabs for his jeans, still piled in a heap at his feet.

"Don’t," Jim says, his voice tight, and Leonard glances up at him. There’s a faint flush to Jim’s face, and the tip of his tongue flicks out at his lower lip when he sees Leonard watching him. "You don’t look like an idiot."

Leonard swallows. He clutches the jeans to his stomach, hoping they’ll hide the interested twitch his cock just made at Jim’s tone. “What do I look like, then?”

"Fucking hot, is what," Jim says fervently. He moves closer and Leonard tenses in anticipation. Jim looks….hell, he looks downright hungry, the way his eyes carve a path up and down Leonard’s body, lingering on the thin purple strap on one hip that the jeans don’t quite mask.

He stops right in front of Leonard, close enough that Leonard’s skin prickles with the proximity of his nearness. “Punch me if I’m reading this wrong,” Jim says, his voice low, and it’s the only warning Leonard gets before a hand is pressing at the back of his neck and he’s tugged up to meet Jim’s mouth.

Leonard makes a tiny aborted sound in his throat, but it’s only a millisecond before he’s pushing forward against Jim, grabbing that stupid leather jacket and yanking him closer. His mouth falls opens and Jim tilts his head to deepen the kiss, catching Leonard’s lip between his teeth and soothing the sharp sting with a sweep of his tongue.

Jim’s hands are hot and heavy against Leonard’s sides, tracing up and down and around to his back before sliding down to squeeze his ass. Leonard groans and thrusts forward involuntarily, gasping at the mingled friction of silk and the rough denim of Jim’s pants. “Fuck,” he swears, feeling Jim’s fingers slip beneath the straps on his hips.

"Can I?" Jim murmurs breathlessly, and Leonard chokes out a startled laugh. There’s a fading bruise on Jim’s jaw, a souvenir from the most recent bar brawl last week, and Leonard presses his mouth against it, panting loosely as Jim slides a leg between his thighs, rocking up against the bulge threatening to dislodge the fucking underpants.

"Not gonna last that long," Leonard admits, burying his face in Jim’s shoulder. He jerks his head up again with a yelp as Jim’s grip shifts to the back of his thighs, and he finds himself suddenly hoisted up off the ground. "Goddammit, Jim, put me down!"

"Hold on," Jim wheezes, half laughing as he turns them clumsily towards the bedroom. "We’re almost there."

"You idiot," Leonard gripes, clamping his legs around Jim’s waist and issuing a death grip around Jim’s shoulders. The movement crushes their bodies together, and he swallows hard when Jim’s stomach flexes against his erection.

Jim grunts in satisfaction and drops forward when they reach the bed, and Leonard clutches instinctively at Jim’s neck as his back hits the mattress. Jim’s mouth is back on Leonard’s body before the bed stops shaking, biting and kissing his way down Leonard’s chest. He pointedly stops just below Leonard’s belly button, sucking a bright red mark there before raising his head and grinning idiotically up at Leonard.

"What?" Leonard demands peevishly, his brain working sluggishly as he looks down. "Don’t welch out on me now, I swear-"

"Can I blow you?" Jim asks, propping his chin on Leonard’s hip.

Leonard splutters. “You- you jackass, that’s a fool question to be asking, don’t you think?”

"Just checking," Jim says, and then his big stupid mouth is on Leonard’s cock, hot and wet through the silk, and he forgets his next words.

Jim works him with more enthusiasm and determination than finesse, sucking and mouthing at the stiff length straining at the delicate fabric. There’s already a growing stain and the thing is completely _ruined_ , but all Leonard knows is that he can get dangerously addicted to this.

Then Jim rakes his teeth lightly down, and Leonard bucks in shock. “Jesus Christ,” he chokes out, his hands flying down to twine in Jim’s hair. “What the hell?”

"You think you can come like this?" Jim asks hoarsely, grinding his palm against Leonard’s cock and watching his face intently as his hips jerk up again. "Without taking them off?"

"What?" Leonard slurs, his mind fuzzy and his words slow to come out. He sifts through Jim’s hair with his fingers, finds a grip at the top of his head where the strands are longest.

"Leave them on. Just this once, Bones, I swear." Jim turns those ridiculously blue eyes on him, wide and hopeful, and Leonard feels himself melt in resignation.

"Dammit," he says, and that’s enough consent to put another grin on Jim’s face before he’s diving back down to assault Leonard’s erection.

"Shit, fuck, holy hell," Leonard stutters, his leg jerking up and locking around Jim’s shoulders, pulling him farther down. He can feel Jim’s tongue probing at him through the thin, practically nonexistent barrier of purple silk, and he’s never hated the damn panties more than at that moment.

Jim seems to love them, though, judging by the throaty growls reverberating up Leonard’s body. He digs his fingers into Jim’s hair and tries not to pull or push, his vision flickering when Jim closes his lips around the head of his cock and sucks hard.

"Grgnng," he thinks he says, or maybe it’s something even more embarrassing, from the way that Jim groans encouragingly from below him.

"Please," he forces out this time. "Jim, I can’t- you need to-"

Jim pulls off with a satisfied smirk, running his tongue over his lower lip, and Leonard groans in frustration as the pleasure ebbs away. His breath hitches when Jim taps his cock and lifts his finger, smirking at the sticky residue clinging to his fingertip.

"Brat," Leonard gasps, giving Jim’s hair a vindictive tug. "Come up here, you."

Jim practically climbs up his body, his clothing scraping against Leonard’s bare skin, and the fact that he’s still fully clothed while Leonard is practically buck ass naked shouldn’t be as enticing as it is. “Stop thinking,” Jim whispers, his lips stirring against Leonard’s.

"Huh?" Leonard grunts, reaching down and tugging vainly at Jim’s belt.

"You get this face," Jim licks his way eagerly into Leonard’s mouth, tongues sliding together for a scorching moment, "when you think too much."

Leonard can taste himself on Jim, and he pulls down hard on Jim’s belt, grinding their hips together in a spark-inducing clash. “Someone’s gotta do it,” he says, forcing his brain to connect with his mouth enough to say the words.

"Here- c’mere-" Jim shoves his hands under Leonard’s shoulders and rolls the two of them over, reaching down and palming his ass through the underwear desperately hanging onto Leonard’s hips.

The friction’s even better like this, Leonard soon realizes, his thrusts against Jim’s hip growing sharper and more unsteady. He buries his face against Jim’s shoulder, thinking of the kid’s grin, his eyes, the way he looked when he walked in and saw Leonard today. That painful hope and shock that made Leonard’s heart explode all over the place in medically impossible ways.

"Jim," he gasps, his muscles clenching, vision flickering white at the edges. "Shit, I can’t- hate you- hate you _so_ much-“

"Yeah, that’s it, love you too," Jim coaxes, his voice cracked and raw. "C’mon, you stubborn-" Leonard shuts him up with a final snap of his hips, and he’s gone, fuck, he’s gone so hard that his brain shorts out, that he sees nothing but blinding blue stars as he bites down hard on Jim’s shoulder, hears a distant hiss from above and Jim’s hands gripping down on his flesh.

He’s still shaking when Jim comes beneath him with a violent shudder and a surprisingly quiet hiss, his breath hot against Leonard’s ear and neck.

It’s a few minutes before the first creeping prickles of apprehension make it past Leonard’s post-orgasm haze, and he reluctantly bats at the afterglow in a halfhearted effort to clear his mind. He tries to shift away, roll off to the side, but Jim wraps an arm around his waist to keep him still, seemingly uncaring about Leonard’s weight crushing down on him.

"Purple, huh?" Jim finally asks, and his tone is so deliberately casual that Leonard wrestles his head up to squint at him. Jim meets his gaze, his swollen mouth twitching in amusement.

"You ruined them," Leonard settles for accusing, dropping his head back down on Jim’s shoulder. "This is all I got, you know."

"I’ll buy you another," Jim says, jumping to complete seriousness in the span of less than a second. "I’ll buy you ten, twenty, one in every fucking color. Just tell me that we can do that again."

Leonard snorts, his wrecked heart fluttering feebly in his chest, and he’s suddenly glad that Jim can’t see his face like this. “Sure, kid.”

"No takebacks."

"No tak- how old are you, Jim? Really?"

"Old enough to appreciate purple at a _much_ deeper level, thanks.” Jim’s laughing now, quiet chuckles that shake the both of them, and Leonard has no choice but to kiss him again.


End file.
